Page 28 of Fluttering Heart

“Hopefully it won’t be your last.” He winks at me and claps Finn on the shoulder, turning to him while I’m still reeling. “Ally and I were thinking about having everyone over tomorrow, give Lala the week off. You should come, and bring him.” He points at me, winks again, then he’s off to work.

The rest of the night is as much a whirlwind as the start of it, and all my culinary dreams do come true.

We get back to his place at a respectable hour to go to sleep, but we spend hours fucking and making love, so it’s a jolt when sunshine wakes me up.

I feel like I didn’t sleep enough, and Finn looks like he feels the same.

We make breakfast, drink coffee side-by-side, and just like he did yesterday, he leaves me his office and works at the dining table.

It all seems so normal. It feels right.

After a productive workday, we shower and share soapy hand jobs in his shower, then we’re again walking over to his uncle’s house. We arrive at a big house, bigger than any other I’ve seen in town, and Finn doesn’t hesitate to walk up the walkway and open the door without knocking, and that’s where I meet the Hearts.

Most of them.

One of Finn’s cousins, Sam, is missing since he lives in Chicago with his son, and of course Charlie’s missing too since he’s in the middle of the season.

But there are a lot of other Hearts to meet.

Charlie’s mom is possibly the warmest person I’ve ever met, rivaled only by Lala, the owner and original chef of Warm Heart.

My heart’s so full it almost bursts throughout the night. They’re welcoming, loving, accepting, and their hearts—no pun intended—are open.

It actually hurts, the stark contrast to my own family. To my life actually.

Finn’s life is full, and mine... isn’t.

Which is what leads me to make a hard decision.

“I need to go home,” I tell Finn when we’re back at his place before ten.

“What? It’s so late?—”

“I have to stop by the office tomorrow and help one of my managers deal with something.”

It’s not exactly a lie, I do need to do that, but not tomorrow. It’s not that urgent.

“Lou, it’s really late and?—”

“The freeway will be empty and I’m a good driver. Don’t worry so much,” I tell him with a teasing smile. God, I’m really acting my ass off.

Between his protests and my assurances, I’m ready to drive off less than twenty minutes later.

“Can I come see you during the weekend?” he asks, looking so much like a kicked puppy that I start to really feel bad.

But I need this.

Just a few days to get used to the idea... to the magnitude.

“Of course you can. And I’ll let you know as soon as I’m home.”

See?I reason with myself. I’m not ghosting him at all. I’m just taking some much needed space.

* * *

But I don’t feelany relief after I get home and send the promised text.

And the next day, when I make the trip to the office so I can assure myself I’m not a liar, I feel even worse. By Saturday, I know I’m losing my mind. I should be over the moon that I’m falling in love with a man who seems to get me.

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